The southern drawl blares through the window of our hire car as we pull into the hotel’s parking bay. ‘Have a magical evening, go make some memories,’ the voice says.
Thus far my day has been pretty much magic-free, unless you include the miracle of flight.
But nine daylight hours on a plane stuffed with over-excited kids, admittedly most of them mine, and the joy-free zone that is US immigration fade fast as we enter the lavish lobby of the Grand Floridian, a colonial-style palace of a place with a live orchestra on the balcony playing – what else – Disney show tunes.
But nine daylight hours on a plane stuffed with over-excited kids, admittedly most of them mine, and the joy-free zone that is US immigration fade fast as we enter the lavish lobby of the Grand Floridian, a colonial-style palace of a place with a live orchestra on the balcony playing – what else – Disney show tunes.
Half an hour later, having been shown to a suite of rooms comfortably larger than my first flat, and with our three boys tucked up in bed, we’re sitting down to enjoy a cocktail in the balmy Florida night air.
My daiquiri arrives with huge rounds of lime placed on both sides of my glass, to look like Mickey Mouse ears. If a Disney shaped, rum-based drink seems just a little wrong and putting sophistication and Disney in the same sentence feels weird, this whole holiday is an eye-opener. This is luxury Disney.
To fully appreciate it you need to stow your European cynicism in the room safe with your passport and pop Mr Bluebird on your shoulder for the duration of your stay. Disney doesn’t do irony.
My daiquiri arrives with huge rounds of lime placed on both sides of my glass, to look like Mickey Mouse ears. If a Disney shaped, rum-based drink seems just a little wrong and putting sophistication and Disney in the same sentence feels weird, this whole holiday is an eye-opener. This is luxury Disney.
To fully appreciate it you need to stow your European cynicism in the room safe with your passport and pop Mr Bluebird on your shoulder for the duration of your stay. Disney doesn’t do irony.
The following morning dawns bright and clear, just as Walt intended, and we get our first true idea of the scale of Disney World. It’s built on 43 square miles of Florida swampland. Alongside the four theme parks and two water parks, there are 23 resort hotels and five golf courses.
I blush as I remember telling the very nice woman from Virgin Holidays that we might not need a car as we were mainly planning to stay inside Disney World. Luckily, she knew better.
Having only been to Disneyland Paris, where you can do it all in a day with determination and sensible shoes, I hadn’t realised that despite the monorail and a ferry service, our car would be very useful. The only place to start is the Magic Kingdom.
Having only been to Disneyland Paris, where you can do it all in a day with determination and sensible shoes, I hadn’t realised that despite the monorail and a ferry service, our car would be very useful. The only place to start is the Magic Kingdom.
A stroll down Main Street USA leads to the spiralling towers of Cinderella’s iconic fairytale castle. With three boys, however, I have no chance to indulge my inner fairy princess.
Pen marks on the wall at home had already established that all three sons had now topped the minimum height requirement to access Disney’s white-knuckle rides. So it was straight to Space Mountain where, for the first of many, many times in the following week, I have my spleen pinned against my spine as we hurtle through the cosmos on an indoor rollercoaster.
Pen marks on the wall at home had already established that all three sons had now topped the minimum height requirement to access Disney’s white-knuckle rides. So it was straight to Space Mountain where, for the first of many, many times in the following week, I have my spleen pinned against my spine as we hurtle through the cosmos on an indoor rollercoaster.
Then to Splash Mountain which combines a trip around Brer Rabbit’s briar patch with the inevitable watery plummet, all set to the tune of Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah. It becomes a holiday anthem. The longer the list of restrictions and health warnings, the more the boys enjoy the rides.
For space- and speed-mad kids, Epcot proves a hit with its shuttle simulator Mission Space and the boys’ favourite, Test Track. They get to design a car on screen and then ‘test’ it on a ride that breaks through a wall and courses around the outside of the building. Much is made of the queues at theme parks and with good reason.
A two-hour wait in baking heat with tetchy toddlers for a 90-second ride is clearly not how dreams come true. But, as with like many things in life, at Disney World you can pay to avoid pain.
We booked fast passes online for the most popular rides. The only surefire way to skip the queues is to hire a guide. We were offered this indulgence for one day and, I have to admit, it was wonderful.
We booked fast passes online for the most popular rides. The only surefire way to skip the queues is to hire a guide. We were offered this indulgence for one day and, I have to admit, it was wonderful.
We are collected from our hotel by Zoe, an all-American cheerleader of a guide who enchants our sons as she regales us with ‘inside stories’ while we walk straight on to every ride.
It’s questionable if falling down a lift shaft in Twilight Zone Tower Of Terror three times before looping the loop on Aerosmith’s Rock ’n’ Rollercoaster is really a treat worth paying a small fortune for, but despite clear photographic evidence that the boys were terrified, they all promise it was the most fun they’ve ever had.
Zoe also secures front-row tickets for two live shows involving high-speed stunt driving and copious amounts of fire. They probably wouldn’t have made it on to our itinerary if we hadn’t had a guide, yet they turn out to be highlights.
It’s questionable if falling down a lift shaft in Twilight Zone Tower Of Terror three times before looping the loop on Aerosmith’s Rock ’n’ Rollercoaster is really a treat worth paying a small fortune for, but despite clear photographic evidence that the boys were terrified, they all promise it was the most fun they’ve ever had.
Zoe also secures front-row tickets for two live shows involving high-speed stunt driving and copious amounts of fire. They probably wouldn’t have made it on to our itinerary if we hadn’t had a guide, yet they turn out to be highlights.
All that and we still have time to wave at Mickey Mouse in the daily parade of Disney characters and floats. We only venture out of Disney for a butter beer with Harry Potter at Universal Studios (for the boys) and a visit to Bloomingdales (for me), as an antidote to all that terror.
Our hotel alone would make a great destination for a family stay. The sprawling resort on the shore of the Seven Seas Lagoon has two vast pool areas, one with a waterslide that would have kept the boys happy all week if we hadn’t had Disney on our doorstep. Every evening they rush back for a swim, marshmallows around a fire pit and a movie on the beach.
Meanwhile we eat excellent seafood at Narcoosee’s waterfront restaurant, which is a great spot from which to watch the firework spectacular across the bay in the Magic Kingdom that lights up Cinderella’s castle at 9pm each night.
The only problem we have is keeping the kids awake late enough to watch it. Now there’s a sentence I never thought I’d write. If you can suspend your disbelief and indulge Walt Disney’s philosophy that adults are just kids grown up, you find that Disney creates a bubble where real-life concerns do seem to disappear. That in itself makes for a magical family holiday.
We revelled in the escapism and did indeed make some great memories. We’ll go back and do it all again before the boys become surly teenagers. I may never get to have tea with the Princesses but I’m pretty sure I have room for another Mickey Mouse-eared cocktail.
Our hotel alone would make a great destination for a family stay. The sprawling resort on the shore of the Seven Seas Lagoon has two vast pool areas, one with a waterslide that would have kept the boys happy all week if we hadn’t had Disney on our doorstep. Every evening they rush back for a swim, marshmallows around a fire pit and a movie on the beach.
Meanwhile we eat excellent seafood at Narcoosee’s waterfront restaurant, which is a great spot from which to watch the firework spectacular across the bay in the Magic Kingdom that lights up Cinderella’s castle at 9pm each night.
The only problem we have is keeping the kids awake late enough to watch it. Now there’s a sentence I never thought I’d write. If you can suspend your disbelief and indulge Walt Disney’s philosophy that adults are just kids grown up, you find that Disney creates a bubble where real-life concerns do seem to disappear. That in itself makes for a magical family holiday.
We revelled in the escapism and did indeed make some great memories. We’ll go back and do it all again before the boys become surly teenagers. I may never get to have tea with the Princesses but I’m pretty sure I have room for another Mickey Mouse-eared cocktail.